


Impromptu

by tardisbluequill



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, F/F, Fluff, musicians au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 03:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8147726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardisbluequill/pseuds/tardisbluequill
Summary: Impromptu: A short piano piece, often improvisational and intimate in character.Clara x Rose Musician/Artist AU





	

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd. Written for DW Femslash Week.

There was nothing quite like the the sound of piano music and rain.

Or at least, there was nothing more soothing to Rose’s ears. To her heart. She sat on a window seat, pencil and paper in hand, next to a window overlooking a damp field and dark clouds. She was studying her subject intently; her girlfriend Clara who was in comfy clothes and bare feet, her hair tucked into a messy bun, tickling the ivories of an old and beaten (but faithfully tuned) upright piano.

She was practicing a complex piece that was due to be an opener for a concert next month. Clara had fallen for Chopin long before she had fallen for Rose. Her fingers danced gracefully over fast trills and decorations. It was impossible to listen to Clara’s playing without instantly falling in love. She poured her heart and soul into every note, every phrase. It was like listening to a masterpiece painted in the air by the most gorgeous of artists.

But maybe Rose was biased.

There was a little under an hour before Rose needed to leave for work — an artist and a pianist didn’t exactly make enough on their passions to quit their day jobs — but she needed to perfect her drawing first. The details and transparency of Clara’s thin sweater were killing her. She chewed at one of her nails absently, lost in her focus.

Clara reached the last chord of the piece, laying it down delicately. The room echoed with a ring of beautiful sound for an instant, and she let it dissipate before lifting her hands of the keys and foot off the pedal.

Sitting back, she stretched her back and scratched her nose.

“There is _nothing_ worse,” she said with exasperation. “Than getting an itch on your nose halfway through a ten-minute piece.”

Rose chuckled. “Sit still,” she reprimanded. “I’m not done yet.”

Clara sighed in feigned annoyance, but returned to the piano, running up and down the keys with speedy scales and arpeggios. After a few minutes, Rose set down her drawing pad and let her head fall back against the wall with a soft thunk.

“You can stop. It’s not going to happen today. You’re sweater’s going to be the death of me.” Rose ran a hand over her tired face, realizing a moment too late that her hand was streaked in charcoal, which was now probably on her face.

Clara stood and walked over to her with a sympathetic pouting lip. “Aw, what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing. It’s gorgeous. I just can’t draw.”

Clara huffed. “Sure. And I can’t play piano.” Rose rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. “Here, let me take a look.”

Rose handed the drawing pad over and Clara peered at it. She squinted, tilted the paper and moved it closer and further away from her face.

“I think I know what the problem is.” she said.

“What?” Rose asked, hopeful fresh eyes had seen the obviously glaring error keeping her drawing from perfection.

Clara leaned down and laid a kiss on her nose. “You’re thinking too much.”

Rose groaned.

“No really!” Clara insisted. “It’s beautiful! You do me too many favours. I’m a complete mess right now and this girl looks like some sort of goddess.”

Rose smiled. She could see what Clara was doing, but they both knew she could never resist a good set-up. “It’s how I see you. You’re absolutely perfect to me. For me. I love you, you know.”

Clara smiled back. “Love you too. Now, you’re totally going to be late if you don’t start getting ready. I happen to know that you need the bathroom for at least a half-hour and you’ve only got forty-five minutes until you have to leave.”

Rose looked down at the watch on her wrist. “Shit, you’re right.” She hopped down from her window perch and rushed to the bathroom. “I might need to do overtime today!” she shouted through the closed door. “The back-to-school rush is making the store a hellscape. I’ll try to be back before you’re asleep, though.”

“Sounds good,” Clara replied on the other side of the door. “Paris’s mum cancelled her lesson today for a dentist appointment, so I was thinking I might try my lasagna again.”

“OOH!” Rose shouted excitedly.

Clara laughed. “I’ll leave a note on the fridge if there’s leftovers. I might just eat last night’s chowder though. Leave you to fend for yourself.”

“How _dare_ you!” Rose cried in mock outrage, causing Clara to laugh again.

They chatted through the for until Rose hopped into the shower. A little bit later, Rose was running through the kitchen and pressing a quick kiss to Clara’s cheek.

“Love you! See ya later! Bye!”

Clara smiled. “Love you too!” The door closed and the house settled into a comfortable silence. Clara let out a comfortable sigh and started looking for her baking trays.

•••

Rose opened the door slowly and stepped quietly, trying not to wake the home. She toed off her shoes at the door and padded quietly to the kitchen. She grinned at Clara’s note; a drawing of two little stick figures holding hands, one blonde and one brunette, and a little heart between them. Above the doodle was written “Hope you had a good day! Dinner’s in the fridge!”

After heating the meal up in the microwave (and being careful not to let the timer go off), she walked to the bedroom where she saw a soft orange light coming from under the door. Opening the door, she saw Clara sitting snug under the covers with a book and a cup of tea on the bedside table. _She’s killing me with those reading glasses_ , Rose thought with a mental groan.

“Hi!” said Clara, noticing her girlfriend in the doorway.

“Hey,” Rose replied. “I’ve got some…” she took a breath and tried to control the smile breaking over her face. “Some really good news.”

Clara took off her glasses and put them and her book on the end table. “What is it?”

“I got promoted,” said Rose with a squeak. “I’m moving up to head manager!”

Clara squealed in delight and quickly hopped out of bed. She wrapped Rose in an enormous hug. Rose laughed, trying to balance the plate of lasagna while maintaining the hug.

“Oh, Rose, that’s great! You deserve it so much.”

“Don’t I know it,” Rose chuckled. “Let’s sit. I’m hungry.”

They sat back down on the bed and got comfy under the blankets together. Rose stuffed a few morsels in her mouth and talked with her mouth full of food.

“Clara, this is _delicious_. I don’t think there’s a better cook in the world than you.”

Clara snorted. “Hush. You’re being ridiculous. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Rose made a face in protest and Clara laughed. She waited until she’d fully stalled before continuing.

“You are, though! I’ve never eaten food so fantastic in my life. If there’s a better chef out there, I don’t want to meet them, because I’ll have to break it to them that they’re a complete sham compared with you.”

Clara blushed and laughed. “Stop it!”

Rose took another mouthful and made a funny, stuffed-cheek smile. “You know,” she paused for a moment to swallow. “With me and my manager’s salary, and you picking up those new kids for lessons next month, we may even be able to afford a place closer to London.”

Clara’s face fell imperceptibly, but she quickly plastered on a smile. Rose didn’t notice.

“I mean, three quarters of those kids are already somewhere between there and here,” she continued. “So I doubt you’d have any problem with keeping your schedule. In fact, they’d probably be happy with the move. And I think we have just enough money in that rainy day fund for a down payment.”

Finally, she looked at Clara. It was all too easy to see through her fake smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Clara protested. “It’s a great idea!”

“Clara.” said Rose. “Really. What is it?”

Clara sight. “Its just that I… I like our place. It’s cozy. It’s warm. It’s,” she paused. “It’s home. And it’s a lot bigger than anything we’d be able to get in London. Even just around London.” She shook her head. “Forget it. I’m just being silly. It’s a great idea.”

Without hesitation, Rose set her plate aside and scooted over to envelop Clara in a hug. She placed a soft kiss to the other girl’s neck and she felt Clara’s tense muscles relax as one.

“Hey,” she said softly. “You’re not being silly at all. We’re not going to do anything unless we’re both on board with it, yeah?”

Clara sniffed. “Yeah.”

Rose pulled away and was shocked to see tears streaking the girl’s face. Brow furrowed in concern, Rose wiped away a tear with her thumb. “What’s wrong, love?”

She let out a watery chuckle and ducked her head. “Nothing. Really, this time. I’m just… so happy. So so happy to have you with me.”

“Oh.” Rose said quietly. “I love you so much, you know.”

Clara leaned in for another hug and squeezed Rose tightly. “I love you too, Rose. I love you so so much. Now let’s get to sleep before I start sobbing again.”

Rose hissed her nose chastisingly, but flicked out the light. Settling back down under the covers, she pulled Clara’s body close to her own and burrowed her face in the other girl’s sweet-smelling shoulder.

“G’night, love.”

“Night.”

•••

It was weeks later, and Clara had completely forgotten all talk of the house. They were already feeling the benefits of Rose’s raise; they’d gone out for dinner twice last month, and Clara wasn’t so worried about buying a couple fancy ingredients for some dishes she’d like to try.

She was walking home from a trip down to the shop when she saw the mover’s truck outside and the conversation came rushing back. She tried not to panic. There was no way Rose would do something like that without telling her…

“Rose?” she called to her girlfriend, who was standing just outside the door.

“Oh! Good! You’re home!” Rose replied, hurrying over. “So, uh, we can’t go inside just yet. There’s a surprise in there.” She hid a smile behind her hand.

“Rose, could you… tell me what it is?” She was trying to stay calm, but she was starting to feel anxious. She trusted Rose. She trusted her completely. But that didn’t stop her mind from thinking the worst.

Rose paused at her partner’s tone and her smile dropped away. “Clara, I swear it’s a good surprise, okay? I don’t know why…”

“You’re not springing a surprise move on me, are you?” Clara asked outright. Rose’s brows shot up in surprise.

“What? No! No… Oh! No, I swear that’s not what the movers are for.” Clara sighed a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding and Rose laughed a little. “Oh, Clara, I’d never do something like that, I swear.”

Clara let out a sound she hoped was nonchalant. "I didn’t think you would, I just…” She shook her head. “So how long until we can get in?”

Rose scrunched up her face (adorably, Clara thought) in thought. “Um… Well, shouldn’t be too long now. Just need to wait until the guys are done in there. They told me five minutes but that was about ten minutes ago so…”

Clara laughed. Just then, she saw the movers come out the door and wave for Rose’s attention. Rose hurried over and spoke to the men in hushed tones before thanking them and waving goodbye as they left.

She came back to Clara with a small skip in her step and held out her hands. “Give me the bags. I think you’ll want to have your hands free.” She smiled mysteriously and Clara couldn’t help but smile back.

Hurrying to the door, Clara turned the knob and peered inside slowly. Rose bit her lip to keep from smiling too hard as she watched Clara’s face light up with every inch the door swung.

“OH MY GOD!” Clara shrieked in delight. She ran inside. “OH. MY. GOD. YOU DIDN’T! YOU DIDN’T!”

Rose laughed and put down the bags to be ready for the running hug that Clara gave her. She could feel the girl bouncing in excitement. Curious herself, she looked over Clara’s shoulder to inspect the final presentation of the gift.

There in the middle of the living room stood a shiny, gorgeous baby grand piano.

Rose had been saving for this moment for years, but with the raise she’d been able to actually look for one. Clara had been playing on a beat-up upright for far too long for someone of her talents.

Rose had seen the listing for the baby grand about a month ago and haggled with the seller for a full week before managing to get it down to a decent price. There were scratches and a few chips on the legs, messed up varnish on one side, and the bench had a tear in the back, but all that was cosmetics. The real beauty was its sound. A sound that Rose longed to hear.

“Go on. Play for me, maestro.”

Clara giggled and hurried over to the bench, taking a seat slowly and with a long, happy sigh. Her fingers swept gently over the surface. She played a quick scale up a couple octaves and squirmed in delight at the perfect weight of the keys.

“This is… this is…” she began. She didn’t finish her sentence, but brought up her other hand and began to play an old piece she had played a couple years ago; it was one of her favourites and her fingers knew every movement by heart.

Rose leaned into in the curve of the piano and rested her head on her hand, enjoying the melodic sounds reverberating through the strings. She watched Clara’s face in rapt attention, taking in every frown and smile, every lift and fall of her head following the phrases. She was so beautiful. Rose couldn’t even imagine how she’d managed to have someone like Clara love her.

The piece came to a close and both girls had tears in their eyes.

“Thank you, Rose. Thank you.”

Rose smiled a watery smile. “You deserve it. You deserve it all and so much more.”

Clara ducked her head, blushing. Looking back up, she asked Rose “Would you draw me?”

Rose nodded. “Of course!”

Rose grabbed her art supplies and sat by the window as Clara started up her playing again. As she sketched out the outline, Rose mused on how it looked so right to have Clara sitting at the piano. This time, she was going to draw her perfectly.


End file.
